


Final Farewell

by keiththepaladin



Category: Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 03:53:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6103964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keiththepaladin/pseuds/keiththepaladin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When the sun had gone down, bathing the field in the light of dusk, and stars spotted the sky, and silence surrounded him, all that remained was pain. Pain and loss." </p><p>In which Ty is dead and Malcolm is mourning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Final Farewell

**Author's Note:**

> This is angsty and I am not sorry

When the sun had gone down, bathing the field in the light of dusk, and stars spotted the sky, and silence surrounded him, all that remained was pain. Pain and loss.

Malcolm Fade’s eyes were burning, the tears falling down his pale face. His face was blotchy and red, his eyes puffy from crying. Malcolm had dark bags under his eyes, a sign that he hadn’t slept in days. His white-as-snow hair had been dishevelled to the point where it stood up at every angle. Not that he cared, not that he even noticed. All he seemed to be able to focus on was the headstone in front of him.

The words were like venom to his eyes, mocking him. There is nothing you can do. The vile words spun around in Malcolm’s head, making him dizzy.

Everyone else had left by this point, in a cloud of white and tears. They had said their final goodbyes, and departed. The only one who remained now was Malcolm, on his knees before the stone. The words of it permanently etched into his brain:

In loving memory of Tiberius Blackthorn. A remarkable brother, friend, Shadowhunter and detective.

That last bit had been Livia’s idea. Malcolm’s thoughts trailed to the girl, and how broken she had been when she had discovered the news of her twin’s departing. She still hadn’t recovered, and a large part of Malcolm thought she never would. It had seemed as though she hadn’t slept in days. All she was able to do was sit, a blank expression on her face, before opening one of Ty’s books and holding it close. She was still in shock, most of the family was.

She blamed herself, Malcolm thought. But didn’t they all? He certainly blamed himself. In his mind, he was the only one at fault. He should have been there. He should have done something.

No one else was faring any better. Julian was taking it hard, barely able to look anyone in the eye. Drusilla hadn’t spoken a word since she found out, and Octavian was only crying, asking for his older brother. Mark had become distant, Helen didn’t even know yet, no one dared to break that news to her. And Arthur. He had launched into insanity, barely being able to speak a sentence to anyone.

No, the Blackthorns were not dealing well with the tragedy.

Malcolm traced the words of the headstone over with his finger. He didn’t want to believe that Ty-his Ty- was truly gone. That he would never see his grey eyes sparkle as he explained his most recent detective story, or how his eyebrows furrowed when he got confused. He would miss Ty’s wonderful words, and the way he could describe anything so it sounded beautiful. There was not a single aspect of Ty he would not miss.

More tears flooded his eyes. Ty had become such a big part of his life in the last few years, that he could not imagine a day without him. He truly didn’t know how to go on. Never had he dealt with such a loss.

Malcolm reached into his dark coat’s pocket, only to produce a small, battered stuffed bee. Irene. Ty was always correcting him on that. Her name was Irene, and nothing else. Malcolm had kept it since Ty had given it to him, on the eve of their first kiss. (Malcolm remembered that as well, he always would) and he had treasured it ever since. With a shaking hand, Malcolm placed the toy on top of the grave, closing his eyes. Irene belonged with Ty, that much was known.

Another sob racked through Malcolm’s thin frame as he attempted to stand. When he finally did, he gave another wistful look at the headstone. He didn’t want to leave, it would be like finally saying goodbye.

“I love you.” Malcolm’s voice broke on the last word. As he hesitantly turned to leave, a picture of a boy with a sharp face and grey eyes found its way to his head, where he never planned on forgetting.


End file.
